


It Takes Two Teams (To Raise Two Kids)

by RetroactiveCon



Series: Hold Tight to What You Love [9]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Barry Allen has ADHD, Jewish Leonard Snart, M/M, Team as Family, The Rogues (DCU) As Family, Trans Barry Allen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:20:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 8,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22123210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RetroactiveCon/pseuds/RetroactiveCon
Summary: Leonard doesn’t consider how lucky he is until after the twins are born. Within a week, he and Barry are both exhausted. Thankfully, they have a massive extended family to come to their aid.
Relationships: Barry Allen/Leonard Snart
Series: Hold Tight to What You Love [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1571482
Comments: 50
Kudos: 150





	1. Cisco

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trinipedia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trinipedia/gifts), [minny16](https://archiveofourown.org/users/minny16/gifts).



Leonard doesn’t consider how lucky he is until after the twins are born. Within a week, he and Barry are both exhausted. Thankfully, they have a massive extended family to come to their aid. 

First, and most eagerly, it’s Team Flash. Cisco is over almost every day to dote on the twins. Leonard loses track of how many times he walks in to find Cisco and Barry stretched out in a patch of sunlight, each with a baby on their chest. When he finally asks, “What are you doing?”, their answer is simple. 

“Caitlin said we needed to put them in the sunlight, remember?” Barry pauses to kiss Michael’s tufty hair. “To help with their jaundice. And they’re too small to just leave them. Plus, they get cold if they’re not cuddled.”

Leonard has noticed that. The twins have struggled to adjust to being outside the womb; even in bright sunlight and while being cuddled, they’re colder than they were while they shared Barry’s superhuman body heat. Only Leonard’s aversion to the heat has kept him from cranking the thermostat as high as it will go just to keep the twins warm. 

“And this way we can all nap,” Cisco adds. Nora burrows against his chest. Her nakedness emphasizes the lingering orange tint to her skin. “Oh, hey, honey, shh. It’s okay, Tío is here. Let’s cuddle up closer to Papa so we can mooch off his warmth, huh?” 

Leonard watches somewhat jealously as Cisco scoots closer to Barry. They end up pressed side by side; Barry slips an arm around Cisco’s shoulders to make it easier. Nora makes a weepy little hiccup sound that draws simultaneous cooing from both of them. 

“Am I allowed to join in?”

Cisco arches an eyebrow. “Well, you can’t cuddle me, but there’s plenty of floor on that side of Barry.” 

Indeed there is. Leonard toes off his boots, crosses the room on socked feet, and settles on the floor next to Barry. “I’m too old for this,” he mutters. In half an hour or an hour, whenever Barry decides the twins have spent enough time in the sun, his back will be in spasms. That doesn’t mean he can resist the chance to cuddle his sun-warmed speedster and sleeping babies. “Hey, honey,” he coos at Michael. 

“Say hi to your Abba,” Barry coaxes. Michael kicks one tiny bare foot, which, in Leonard’s mind, is plenty of acknowledgment. 

“…Why is Captain Cold a Swedish pop band?” Cisco pipes up from Barry’s other side. 

“I’m not.” Leonard drapes an arm over Barry’s waist. In the process, his hand brushes against Cisco’s belly. Both of them recoil. “It’s the Hebrew word for ‘father.’”

“Oh, right.” Cisco makes little hushing sounds at Nora. She hasn’t made a noise that Leonard could hear, but perhaps she’s rustling around. “I gotcha, sweetheart. That’s right, cuddle up to me. There you go, shh.”

“I thought you only liked children that are old enough to play with you,” Leonard murmurs. 

“Just call me out, why don’t you?” Cisco keeps his voice high and light like he’s talking to Nora. “I thought so too, but they’re so freakin’ cute and I’m okay with anything that lets me cuddle and nap. Ooooh that’s nice…”

Leonard lifts his head in bewilderment just in time to see Barry tug absentmindedly on Cisco’s curls. He tightens his hold on Barry’s waist in silent reproach. 

“Sorry,” Barry mumbles. Notably, he doesn’t stop playing with Cisco’s hair. Leonard decides that, for the time being, he can permit it. That doesn’t mean he has to like it.


	2. Caitlin

Caitlin sees the twins for their check-ups. She isn’t comfortable enough with Leonard to come to the apartment, but every time they bring the twins to STAR Labs, she spends more time holding and cooing at them than she does examining them. Frost hides in the back of her mind during all this (“Eugh, babies”), for which Leonard is quietly thankful. 

“They’re healthy,” she pronounces proudly. Despite having given Nora back to Leonard, she keeps hold of Michael, who’s by far the calmer twin. “You’re growing well, yes you are. You’re going to be tall like your fathers, and your sister will too, yes.” 

Michael waves his fat little fist, perfectly content to be cooed at. In Leonard’s arms, Nora squirms, looking for the source of the cooing. Leonard makes gentle hushing sounds until she settles down.

“And your Papa is doing well, too,” Caitlin affirms. At this, Leonard breathes a silent sigh of relief. There were several hours where he feared childbirth might kill Barry; even weeks after the fact, hearing that all is well is a welcome reassurance. “Yes he is, he’s so happy to have you. He went through so much for you and Nora.”

Nora burbles upon hearing her name. Caitlin wanders over, still rocking Michael, and beams down at her. 

“Yes, you’re both doing so well. They’re so sweet, Leonard.”

By now, Leonard is used to being addressed in baby-voice. For Caitlin’s sake, he’ll pretend she’s just doing it because Michael and Nora are listening attentively. “They take after their Papa that way.”

Barry bounces back into the room. Leonard watches with amusement as he hops from foot to foot, making an admirable attempt at walking despite clearly wanting to stand still and happy-bounce. Caitlin turns and smiles at him. “Glad to be cleared?”

“Yes!” As soon as he’s spoken to, Barry stops and bounces in place. His hands hang loosely at chest height—‘raptor style,’ Leonard has heard him call it. For Leonard’s benefit, he pronounces, “I’m safe to go back on T! No more hips for me!” 

Leonard shifts Nora to his shoulder and turns her so that she can watch Barry bounce. “Look at your Papa,” he murmurs. “Look how happy he is. I love getting to see how happy your Papa is when he bounces and rocks, and if you bounce or rock or flap, I’ll love that, too.” 

Caitlin looks sorrowfully at the babies. “I don’t know if you should encourage them to stim,” she murmurs. The light, baby-voice tone is gone; this is her doctor’s voice. “Children are cruel. If the twins look different…”

Leonard shakes his head. “Children aren’t cruel. Adults are cruel, and children are fast learners.” He nuzzles his nose against Nora’s. “Which is why it’s crucial to me that the twins grow up in a house that embraces every aspect of them. I’ve suppressed my identity at a parent’s behest. I won’t make them do the same.” 

Caitlin is quiet. Leonard suspects she’s thinking of Frost, suppressed and embittered because of her parents’ fear from the time she was small. Had she been allowed to get to know Frost when they were young, she might not have lashed out as her powers developed. “Maybe you’re right.”

Barry approaches, no longer bouncing now that the discussion has turned serious. “I’m gonna let them be whoever they are,” he promises, “and give them the words they need. I know what it’s like not to have words for what you are.” 

Nora chirrups, sensitive to the change in tone. Leonard kisses her. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Your Papa just loves you lots and worries for you.”

“He might be right to,” Caitlin says quietly. She passes Michael to Barry, who cradles the baby against his shoulder and lavishes him with kisses. “They’re so sweet.”

“You’re welcome to visit them whenever, you know.” Barry gives her a soft, hopeful look. Caitlin gives him a small, reserved smile. 

“I know, but thank you for telling me.” 

Somewhat warily, Leonard adds, “Frost is welcome, too, if she wants.”

That makes Caitlin laugh. “She says no thank you, children aren’t her forte. But thank you for the offer.”

Barry gives her a one-armed hug. “You’re the best, Caitlin. And Frost, too. You know that, right?”

She cups his cheek. Leonard quashes the same possessive twinge he’d felt upon seeing Barry play with Cisco’s hair. “You’re something special too, Barry. And you’re going to be a great father. Both of you will.” 

Looking down at the twins—so tiny, so vulnerable—Leonard can only hope.


	3. Iris

Despite being their adopted relative, Iris is over significantly less than Cisco. When Barry teases her about it, she reminds him, “I babysit Jenna _and_ I have to deal with Eddie, Wally, and my dad. My hands are full!” 

“Well, yeah, but I still want you over sometimes.” Barry adjusts his hold on Michael’s bottle. The baby reaches up, although Leonard can’t tell whether he wants to touch the bottle or Barry’s finger. “They have to grow up knowing they have the coolest aunt ever.” 

“Aww.” Iris leans over and pinches Barry’s cheek. He tolerates it with a mock-weary expression. “Well, they have the cutest Papa ever. And their Abba isn’t so bad either, I guess.” She throws Leonard a wary glance. He offers her his toothiest, most predatory smile. 

“Thank you for that.” 

“Okay, I take it back, he’s the literal worst.” Iris turns back to Barry and demands, “Remind me why you chose _this guy,_ again?"

“He’s all fluff if you get past the icy exterior.” Barry holds up the bottle to show Michael: “All gone! You’ve been hungry!” 

“They’re growing.” Iris trades him Nora for Michael. Barry reaches for another bottle and pokes the rubber tip between Nora’s plump little lips. “Wait ‘til they’re older. Cecile complains about Jenna’s appetite all the time—she’s the one who advocated ‘let her breastfeed for as long as she wants, it’s healthy for her and me’, and now she keeps saying she can’t wait until Jenna decides she’s had enough.” 

“Don’t have that problem,” Barry sings out gleefully. Michael burbles, entranced by his Papa’s tone. “Also, I grasshoppered—” Leonard has only ever heard him say this around Iris. He’s gathered that it means ‘my thoughts jumped elsewhere, don’t ask how.’ “—are you and Eddie thinking about kids?”

Iris shakes her head. “Eddie doesn't want to—he’s terrified of starting the Thawne line that leads to Eobard. Besides, I think I kind of like having my independence. Not that Dad accepts that, you know how he is—‘so Iris, when am I getting grandbabies?’ Never mind that he has two already!” She slips her finger into Michael’s grasping hand. 

“He’ll get over himself,” Barry says. “It’s your and Eddie’s decision. Plus, like you say, he’s already got the cutest grandbabies in the world.” He bends down and kisses Nora’s brow. She forsakes her bottle to chirrup happily and flail all four tiny limbs. 

“Not that he’s visited,” Leonard feels obligated to point out. “It’s almost like he disapproves of the stay-at-home parent.”

Iris glances back at him, one eyebrow quirked. _“I_ disapprove of the stay-at-home parent, but here I am. Also, how did you end up as the stay-at-home dad?”

“…I really wanted to go back to the CCPD,” Barry mumbles. He’s still sensitive about it, however often Leonard assures him that he’s no less loving a father for hurrying back to work. “I have too much energy to stay cooped up.”

“And villainy is best done from home,” Leonard says with a smirk. In truth, he’s forsaken heists entirely in favor of the occasional semi-legal foray with the Flash. The last thing he wants is to spend the twins’ childhood in Iron Heights, as Lewis did during his youth. (He still plots with the Rogues, but they do all the legwork, and if caught, they would never turn him in.) 

“The literal worst,” Iris repeats, but there’s a hint of a smile on her lips. Perhaps she senses the joke. He doubts she understands his motives, but he doesn’t ask for understanding; acceptance is plenty. 

When Barry has gone to put the twins to bed, Iris corners Leonard in the kitchen. “If you hurt my niblings, I’ll end you,” she promises. There’s no bravado in her tone, no hesitation in her eyes: she’s convinced of her ability to kill him. With the thorough, efficient Detective West as her father, Leonard has no doubt she could. 

“If I lay a finger on either of them in anger, I’ll kneel at your feet while you do it.” 

Iris raises her eyebrows. Leonard thinks she approves, but it’s hard to tell: she’s good at hiding her emotions. (He doesn’t want to wonder how she learned.) “You mean that.”

Before he can answer, Barry’s weary voice drifts into the kitchen. “Okay, they’re asleep. Please tell me there’s food.” 

“Spaghetti, garlic bread, and pathetic microwaved broccoli.” Leonard’s standards for a good supper have plummeted since the twins’ birth. One day, if he finds someone he trusts to look after the twins for a night, he fully intends to prepare a nice meal and spoil Barry for a while. “Are you staying for dinner, Iris?” 

She glances between him and Barry. Whatever she sees makes her decide, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm about to go see my dad until the 15th, so I make no promises about how often I'll be able to update. I'll try to get some writing done, though, because he does me the kind of frustration that has to be vented in fic form.


	4. Harry

Leonard likes to lurk and watch, so he’s always keenly aware when others are lurking and watching. Given that the lurker in question is watching the twins’ six-month check-up, he feels obligated to say, “If you want to cuddle them, fine, but don’t lurk.”

Harry steps out from his spot in the doorway. “I’m not a cuddler,” he says curtly. 

“That much I’d guessed,” Leonard agrees. 

They stand and watch together as Caitlin sets Nora on the scale. The baby coos and waves a tiny fist; Caitlin waves down at her in response. Presently, Harry says, “It sneaks up on you.”

“Hmm?” Leonard glances at him. 

“Loving them.” Harry nods at Michael, who’s drowsing in Barry’s arms. “I wasn’t enamored of the idea of kids, to put it mildly, although in hindsight it might have been the process of conception that put me off them. But still, they’re small. They’re loud. They run around.” 

Leonard nods. He’s quite looking forward to the loud, running around parts of childhood, although he suspects Harry doesn’t mean it in a fond way. 

“But Jesse…the moment she was born, I realized I finally had a purpose.” Harry shrugs, trying to dismiss a deep confession with false levity. (Leonard knows. He does the same thing.) “And I was terrible at it—a terrible, controlling, distant, emotionless asshole of a father, and she deserved better than me. But I couldn’t have asked for better than Jesse Quick. And you should get in that mindset now.”

Leonard nods. He’s been enamored of the twins since before they were born, despite his best attempts to keep his distance. “Not a day goes by that I don’t think about how lucky I am.”

Harry nods. “Then make sure you show it. That’s where I fell short, and I _will_ force you to do better.” 

Leonard nods. He remembers being relatively demonstrative with Lisa, for a given value of ‘demonstrative’ (he could only do things that the people around them wouldn’t view as weakness, which led to some odd displays of affection). That faded as they aged. Barry had to re-teach him to express love in ways other people can understand. Hopefully, he can use similar methods with the twins. “I know.”

As Caitlin finishes up with Nora, Leonard takes a step forward, ready to take her. Instead, Caitlin keeps hold of her and perches on the cot next to Barry. From the looks they exchange, they’ve no intention of moving anytime soon. 

“You know you’re welcome to be in their lives,” Leonard says. The words feel stilted and strange on his tongue. Barry is much better at opening the door to the members of Team Flash; Leonard doesn’t really know how. “It takes a village, and all.”

Harry shakes his head. “I know where I’m needed. Still, it’ll be nice to visit once in a while—make sure you’re not making my mistakes.”

“Why does no one ever worry about Barry?” Leonard quips. He understands, though. Of the two of them, he’s far more worried about his own behavior. 

Harry scoffs. “Your partner is the human equivalent of an affectionate puppy. You’re a thief and a murderer. Everyone’s going to worry more about you.”

Leonard tilts his head, acknowledging the point. It’s nice to know he’ll have a ‘village’ to hold him accountable should he ever harm his family. “Noted.”

Later, when he’s able to cuddle two sleepy babies and a drowsy Barry, he remembers Harry’s warning. “I love you,” he murmurs. “All of you.”

Barry hums. “I love you too, Len.”


	5. Joe

It’s one of those rare Saturdays where Barry decides he’s going to take care of the twins for the day and shoos Leonard out of the house. (“You’ve been cooped up since they were born, go be free!”) It’s been so long since Leonard wasn’t looking after small children that he has no idea what to do with himself. He winds up going to the movies with Lisa, Shawna, and Hartley, who demand to see the newest Star Wars. By the time they leave, bickering over something called an “OTP” (or “OT3,” in Shawna’s case), Leonard suspects he’s merely exchanged one set of fatherly duties for another. He wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Upon arriving home, he sees he’s not the only one in such a position. The first hint of this is a smooth, warm voice filling the house, crooning a song Leonard recognizes. Without thinking (or considering who might be singing), he joins in. Only when he wanders into the twins’ room does he find a somewhat bewildered-looking Joe West, singing soft and sweet while simultaneously frowning at the door. 

“Where’s Barry?” Leonard asks when the song is done. 

“Ran out for pizza,” Joe explains. He settles Michael in the crib, tucks a spring-green blanket around him, and bends down to kiss his brow. “He knows I can handle little ones.” 

None-too-subtly, Leonard strides across the room to check. True to Joe’s word, both babies are soundly sleeping; Nora has already kicked her way free of her blanket and is making grabby hands in her sleep. Without thinking, Leonard scoops her up and swaddles her in one of Barry’s cardigans. She clutches it tightly in both fists, hums in her sleep, and goes utterly still. 

“Cecile does that with Jenna,” Joe murmurs. “Read a dozen articles on it—half of ‘em say it’s safe and fine, half of ‘em say it’s a risk.”

“I forgot, Barry told me you’re a by-the-book parent.” Leonard settles Nora back in her crib and checks on Michael. Unlike Nora, who’s clingy even in her sleep, Michael is perfectly peaceful.

“Some of us wanna do it right.” Joe bristles. Leonard doesn’t rise to it, although he has strong words he’d like to say about Joe’s idea of good parenting for a traumatized child. 

“Ever figure that maybe the ‘right’ way is to let your child set the pace?” 

He doesn’t expect Joe to burst into quiet chuckles. The atmosphere in the room lightens considerably, although Leonard remains on his guard. “Sorry,” Joe says through his laughter. “I just didn’t figure you for a granola dad.” 

“I’m not.” Leonard narrows his eyes at him. “And I’ve no intention of being permissive. But I think failing to acknowledge that a child might have some idea of what’s right for them is authoritarian.” 

“See, this is why I haven’t been over.” Joe reaches down to Nora and tries to wriggle his finger into her fist. She mewls and clasps his fingertip. “I’m not about to listen to a murderer get high and mighty with me. Yes, I made mistakes with Barry. Made them with Iris, too. I’d like to think I learned from them.”

Leonard is spared having to respond by Barry’s quiet knock. “There’s pizza,” he stage-whispers. He pads into the room on soft socked feet and leans against Joe’s shoulder. “Were they good?”

“The twins? Yeah. Your partner? No.” Joe levels a brief glare at Leonard. 

Barry turns piteous puppy eyes on Leonard. “Please be nice?” he begs. “I know how you feel, but I want Joe in their lives. Can we please try to get along, for the twins?” 

He knows exactly what he’s doing, the brat. Still, Leonard is weak for those beautiful eyes. “I will attempt to be civil.” 

Joe shrugs. “I’ll try if he does.”

True to his word, Leonard is civil while they eat. If this involves not saying a word, he suspects Joe isn’t terribly displeased about that.


	6. Lisa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one got longer than I thought it would - sorry. Also, there's a bit of a timeskip from the last chapter; I think the twins are probably about two at this point, whereas they were maybe nine or ten months when Joe visited for the first time.

The Rogues are somewhat slower than Team Flash to welcome the twins, but they’re no less delighted with their new little family members when they do. Leonard can’t help laughing every time Lisa is around. She wants so dearly to be involved with them, but she has no idea how to handle small children. It gets slightly easier once the twins hit the toddler years and are old enough to do things, although Leonard still keeps an eye on them to ensure she doesn’t try to do too much with them. 

To Leonard’s amusement, one of her favorite things to do with the twins is play with their hair. (Once, when she was very small, Leonard had grown out his curls for the express purpose of letting her play with them. He suspects she’s remembering that time, too.) The twins both love it, and whenever Lisa brings over the hair ties and butterfly clips, they squabble over who goes first. 

“Now now,” Lisa soothes them. “If you’re going to squabble, I get to choose. That’s what it says in the Aunt’s Book of Rules.” There is no such book. If there was, Leonard would have given it to her after the Jitters debacle of two months ago. “And Michael went first last time, so come here, Nora Joy.” 

Nora gives a happy shriek, shoves Michael’s shoulder one last time, and clambers into Lisa’s lap. Michael huffs and plops down on the floor. Then he seems to get an idea. Leonard doesn’t see exactly what he does, but something about his posture evokes Barry’s pleading stance. 

“Ohh,” Lisa coos. Leonard raises his eyebrows. Michael is too young to have such effective puppy eyes. (That must be what he did, and Leonard knows where he learned it.) “Come here then, baby. How about you choose the butterfly clips for your sister, and then she can choose for you?” 

Happy with this compromise, Michael clambers onto the sofa. Nora pokes out her tongue at him with a muttered, “Brat.” (That one is Leonard’s fault.) 

“Be nice,” Lisa chides. She starts brushing Nora’s hair the way Leonard showed her—close to the ends first and working toward the root. Nora winces a few times, but within seconds, she’s making little happy noises. “There’s a girl. Who’s my pretty girl, hmm?” 

“Me!” Nora says proudly. She points at Michael and proclaims, "Not a girl." 

Lisa hums. “You don’t know that yet. Michael might be a secret girl, like I was at your age. Or you might be a secret boy and I might be wrong!”

Nora makes a soft, confused sound. Michael sits up straighter, a butterfly clip already clutched in his chubby hand. “Secret?” 

Lisa tilts her head. “Well, it’s hard to explain because it’s different for everybody. I knew I was a secret girl when I was just a little older than you, but I could only tell your Abba because my father was not a nice man.” 

Nora gives an expressive shudder. Both she and Michael have asked about their grandfather a couple of times and have quickly picked up enough to be glad they don’t know him. 

“And your Abba was very sweet to me, yes he was.” Lisa finishes brushing Nora’s hair. For good measure, she goes back and gives it one more gentle brushing. Nora purrs, delighted with the pressure. “He started calling me Lisa when we were alone, because at the time everybody else called me another name. And then once I grew up, I was Lisa to everybody.” 

Michael considers this. “Papa is Scarlet.”

“No, that’s just your Abba giving people weird nicknames.” Lisa catches Leonard’s eye and wrinkles her nose. He shrugs. He’s not about to stop cooing at Barry just because there are little ears listening. “Your Papa is Barry. But when he was secret, he had a different name too.” 

Nora’s mouth gapes open. “What?”

“I don’t know.” Lisa takes the butterfly clip from Michael, gathers some of Nora’s hair, and clips it in place. “If you meet someone after they come out—that means stop being a ‘secret boy’ or ‘secret girl’ and tell everyone—they don’t have to tell you their other name. Your Papa never told me his, and he doesn’t know mine.” 

There’s a stretch of silence while Lisa styles Nora’s hair. Leonard can’t help wondering how much of this the twins will retain, although logically, he knows the answer is ‘next to none.’ They’re curious, because they’re curious about everything and they like to hear Lisa talk, but he knows they won’t remember this. 

Eventually, Lisa nudges Nora out of her lap and beckons Michael into it. If Leonard remembers the deal correctly, it’s now her turn to supervise the butterfly clips. Instead, she runs over to him and holds up her arms. “Abba, Abba! I pretty!” 

He scoops her up and plants a loud kiss on the tip of her nose. “Yes, you are,” he agrees. “You’re my pretty Nora. Did Auntie Lisa do your hair?”

Nora nods. Then her eyes widen and she squirms. “Clips!” 

Leonard lets her down so she can run back over and select Michael’s butterfly clips. Michael watches her approach and asks in a whisper, “I pretty?” 

“Ohh.” Lisa runs the brush in a long, slow stroke through his hair. He purrs and closes his eyes. “Yes, you are. You’re my pretty baby Michael, just like your sister is my pretty baby Nora Joy.” 

Michael nuzzles contentedly against Lisa’s chest and mumbles, “I pretty.” 

Nora, oblivious to the sweet moment, stuffs a shimmery blue butterfly clip in his face. “Have!” 

Lisa takes the clip and gathers the fine curls above Michael’s ear. Leonard is glad of it; Michael won’t let them cut his hair, but he hates the ticklish feeling of curls on his ears. “Thank you,” she coos. “Can I have one more?”

Obediently, Nora grabs another clip. While Lisa clips curls away from Michael’s other ear, Nora reaches for a third clip. Lisa shakes her head and holds up her hands. “All done!” 

Both twins hold up tiny chubby hands and echo, “A’ done!” 

As Leonard had once done, the twins keep the clips in until bedtime. Nora tolerates the painstaking process of removing them; Michael pouts. “I pretty,” he says, clamping his hands over the clips and almost knocking them out. 

“You are,” Leonard agrees, tapping the backs of Michael’s hands. “But you’re pretty even if you don’t have clips in your hair. And you know you don’t like to lie down on them.”

Reluctantly, Michael lowers his hands. After Leonard removes the clips, he coos again, “I pretty?”

“You are,” Leonard assures him one more time.


	7. Mark

Mark is a shockingly reliable babysitter. Leonard doesn’t ask him about it; he knows it stems from experience with Clyde, the same way Leonard’s ease with children came from looking after Lisa. More of a surprise is how swiftly the twins take to him. 

“So.” As he spends more time with his family, Leonard is transitioning Lisa into a leadership role within the Rogues. By now, they’ve reached the point that he lets her lay out her plans and offers only minor critiques. “We’ll go in through…Mark, are you listening?”

“Of course,” Mark coos. Leonard covers his smile. The pervasiveness of baby-tone, even now that the twins are toddlers, will never cease to amuse him. “Do you want me to make hail, baby?”

Nora claps. When Mark spins his finger and makes a hailstone the size of a clementine, she shrieks with joy. Mark keeps it out of her reach. 

“No, baby, it’s cold. You can’t touch.”

Lisa clears her throat. _“Mark.”_

“I’m listening!” A hint of a growl creeps into Mark’s tone. Both twins flinch away. He gathers them close and drops back into gentle cooing. “Oh, no, I’m not angry with you. Shh, shh. No, not angry with you.” 

Michael calms almost instantly. Nora stays tense and leans away from Mark’s next caress. She has her Papa’s sensitivity to others’ anger; even if it’s not directed at her, she’ll turn inward for a while. Leonard can’t bear to see it, and it takes all his focus not to leap to his feet and scoop her up. He’ll let Mark make amends; if he does otherwise, Nora might hold a grudge. 

“As I was saying,” Lisa continues. “We go in through the side door here. There’s an alarm, but it receives wireless signals that…”

“I can hack,” Hartley finishes. Lisa nods. 

“Precisely.”

The others continue planning. To Lisa’s dismay, Mark keeps cooing at the twins. Slowly, Nora warms up to him again. By the end of the meeting, both twins are drowsing in his arms, curled against each other like kittens. Lisa can’t chide him then, which Leonard suspects was Mark’s goal. 

“I’ll get them to bed.” Leonard reaches down to scoop them up. He can still carry both of them at once, although it’s a little harder when they’re asleep. 

“I got ‘em.” Mark shifts them around, tries to stand up with both of them in his arms, and hurriedly sits back down. “Maybe not.”

Leonard gently disentangles Nora from her brother. She burrows into his arms with a little happy sigh that sounds vaguely like “Abba.” He kisses her temple and murmurs nonsense against her delicate skin. 

“I didn’t know she was so sensitive to raised voices,” Mark says without prompting. “I won’t snap around her again.”

Leonard nods. Logically, he knows he can’t shield her forever and that it would be better for her to learn coping strategies. That doesn’t mean he wants her to have to deal with raised voices. “So do you have any idea what the plan is?”

In a low voice, Mark recites the plan almost word-for-word. “I was listening,” he insists. “I just wanted to cuddle them.” 

Leonard nudges open the door to the twins’ room. Nora fusses when he settles her in bed and only quiets when Michael is laid next to her. Without opening their eyes, the twins scoot closer together. Nora stuffs her finger in between Michael’s lips. Mark reaches down to disentangle them, but Leonard stops him with a hand on his arm. “They do that. I don’t know why.” 

Instead of separating them, Mark tucks the blanket around them and runs his fingers gently through their curls. Michael purrs around Nora’s forefinger. 

“And Mark?” Leonard says as they walk out the door. “In the future, I expect you to give my sister the respect she’s due. Either cuddle the twins quietly or play with them elsewhere.” 

To his shock, Mark rumbles a playful, “Yessir.”


	8. Shawna

For the twins’ third birthday, Shawna takes them shopping. Leonard has trouble letting them out of his sight, and once they’re gone, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He settles for going on a cleaning spree, which he’s only just finished when they return. 

“Abba!” Michael runs over. There’s a book clutched tightly in his chubby fists. As soon as he’s close enough, he thrusts it out for Leonard’s inspection. “Got a book!” 

Leonard kneels down and inspects the book, titled _Prince and Knight._ Without prompting, Michael opens it to a page showing the titular characters, points at the one dressed in armor, and proclaims, “Abba.” 

Leonard has to muffle a laugh. He’s certainly no knight in armor, but he supposes there isn’t a book called _Thief and Hero._ “Well, thank you.” 

Michael must interpret this as thanks for being given the book rather than thanks for being compared to a knight. He quickly snatches the book back, hugs it to his chest, and says, “No, mine!” 

Shawna wanders over with Nora in her arms. Nora is clutching what appears to be the companion book, which is called _Maiden and Princess._ Shawna has a bag that has soft, irregular bulges as though it contains clothes. “When I was your age,” Shawna is saying, “I wanted so badly to live anywhere except Central City. And as soon as I could read, nobody could stop me. I went to the library every day looking for new books to read so that I could pretend to go somewhere else for a while.” 

Nora frowns and waggles the book. “Still here, Auntie Shawna.” 

“I know,” she agrees. “And I’m not sad about that. I like being here with you and Michael, and your Abba, and all the Rogues—they’re like family. I just sometimes wish I could get away.” 

Nora offers her the book. Shawna shifts her so she has a free hand with which to take it. “Thanks, baby. Yeah, let’s read, huh? Let’s read about the maiden and the princess.” 

Michael runs over to her, his book forgotten in curiosity to hear Nora’s. Shawna settles on the freshly-vacuumed sofa, gathers the twins to her, and opens the book. Leonard finds excuses to linger near them, eager to hear the story through to its end. When the brave warrior maiden (“Auntie Iris,” the twins agree instantly) and the princess (“Auntie Lisa,” says Nora at the same time Michael says, “Auntie Shawna”) are finally wed, both twins happy-rock. After a moment, Shawna rocks with them. 

“I can get behind your little grooving thing.” 

“Happy!” Nora proclaims. Leonard smiles. He and Barry have been working with them to name their feelings since the moment they could talk. He expected Nora to be worse at it; in fact, Michael struggles far more.

They continue rocking for a little while. Leonard suspects they’ve gotten themselves into a loop the same way Barry and Cisco sometimes do: by now, they’re not rocking about the story, only about the fact that someone else is rocking with them. Surreptitiously, he takes a video to show Barry later. 

“My book now?” Michael asks hopefully. 

Shawna sets Nora’s book aside and settles Michael’s book into her lap. Before she opens it, both twins agree: the knight is Leonard, and the prince is Barry. Shawna casts an amused glance over her shoulder at Leonard. He can only shrug. Chivalrous he isn’t, but he’ll let the twins believe in his inherent goodness for now. 

Right after they finish the story, Barry speeds into the house. Michael beckons him over with a call of, “Papa, Papa! New books!” Shawna jumps at his appearance and gently squirms her way free of the twins. 

“I don’t mind,” Barry hurries to assure her. “You can stay.” 

She casts a quick glance at Leonard, as though ensuring it isn’t a trap. He nods once and offers an encouraging little smile. Barry is used to having Rogues around the house by now; the last thing he’s going to do is arrest her. “Well…we did get a third book.”

This is greeted with raucous cheers from the twins. Leonard pretends not to see the way Shawna melts back against the sofa, happy to be accepted. “Wanna join in?”

At her invitation, both Leonard and Barry join the trio on the sofa. Leonard takes care to keep Michael as a buffer between him and Shawna. She’s okay with the little ones touching her, but she’s far more cautious about touch with adults. He’s grateful to see Barry do the same; he seems to understand Shawna’s wariness. 

“Now, this was one of my favorites when I was small,” Shawna admits in a conspiratorial whisper. She barely looks at the book as she recites, “‘When I was quite young, and quite small for my size, I met an old man in the Desert of Drize. And he sang me a song I will never forget—at least, well, I haven’t forgotten it yet.’”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both _Prince and Knight_ and _Maiden and Princess_ are real children's books, and they look adorable although I haven't had a chance to read them. The bit at the end is from _Did I Ever Tell You How Lucky You Are?_ by Dr. Seuss.


	9. Sam and Rosa

Sam and Top only ever come over together. Leonard didn’t expect any different—he seldom sees one of them without the other—but it’s funny to watch the twins’ bewilderment when only Sam shows up. Nora makes a helpless gesture into thin air. Michael looks up from his ball toy and pouts. 

“Auntie Rosa is still getting ready,” Sam explains. “She’ll text me when I can go pick her up.”

“Where are you going?” Leonard drawls. Rosa doesn’t bother dressing up for a day at the house. “And next time, tell me in advance.”

“Yeah, sorry.” Sam rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “We thought we’d take the twins to the pier. You like that idea, yeah?” He kneels down and rubs a hand over Nora’s chubby cheek. She presses into his touch so aggressively that Leonard is afraid she’ll fall over. 

“All right, but I’m coming with.” Leonard has reached the point where he can, with effort, let the twins out of his sight with any other guardians (except maybe Axel). Sam and Rosa lost that privilege after the duck pond incident, of which they have collectively vowed not to speak. 

Sam makes a face as though he, too, remembers the duck pond incident. “All right, that’s fair.” His phone chirrups. To Nora, who’s still leaning heavily on his hand, he coos, “Auntie Rosa needs me to go pick her up. I’ll be right back, okay?”

Reluctantly, Nora scoots back. Sam disappears into the doorknob. He’s gone for maybe three seconds before he reappears with Rosa. She’s wearing a black blouse with a short, pleated gold skirt—gold is her signal that today is a ‘Rosa’ day. Roscoe days are green, usually a green beanie to hide too-long hair. The twins learned the color signals better than most adults; when they go to greet her, Michael rubs Rosa’s skirt as though checking its hue. 

“Auntie Rosa!” Nora holds up her arms. Rosa scoops her up and presses their noses together. 

“Hi baby! Who’s ready to go to the pier?” 

“I am,” Leonard interjects. Rosa jumps and whirls to face him. He holds up his hands in an exaggerated gesture of surrender. “It’s been a while since I got out of the house.”

“Uh.” Rosa pushes her hair behind her ear. “Sure. You can tag along.”

Over the twins’ protests (“too big for stroller, Abba”), Leonard brings the stroller. If he knows his babies, they’ll run around, exhaust themselves, and need to be carried home. It’s an adorably Barry-like tendency, and like with Barry, he’s learned to plan for it well in advance. 

They spend the better part of the day at the pier. Rosa treats them all to ice cream, claiming she needs sweets; Leonard gets a single cup for himself and the twins, who are far too small to need much ice cream. As evening approaches, they encounter Mark, who’s sitting on the railing contemplating the river. To the twins’ delight, he clears every cloud from the sky and gives them a perfect view of a blood-red sunset. 

“Scarlet!” Michael babbles. 

Sam, who’s holding him, casts him a confused glance. Leonard reaches over and ruffles his hair. “That’s right, the sunset is scarlet, just like Papa’s suit.” 

Thankfully, this reminds him to text Barry that they’re out and that they plan to be home soon. He receives a string of heart emojis and an offer to pick up takeout on the way home. Leonard reminds him to get something mild for the twins, although he’s not sure they’ll be awake for dinner. 

“I think it’s about time to go,” he coaxes. In Sam’s arms, Michael is drowsy-eyed and cuddly; Nora, who’s on her own two feet, is leaning heavily against Rosa’s legs. They don’t protest being tucked into the stroller as long as they get to give Sam and Rosa hugs. 

“So this was good?” Sam ascertains. He’s nowhere near as subtle about wanting Leonard’s approval as he probably thinks he is. In this case, Leonard has no qualms about giving it to him. 

“Yes, this was good, although in the future, check with me about taking them anywhere.”

Rosa nods and elbows Sam in the side. “I told him to. He was all ‘oh, I want it to be a surprise.’” 

Leonard raises an eyebrow at Sam. After years working with someone who feels the need to plan everything to the second, he should know better. “I see.”

“Sorry,” Sam mumbles. “Won’t do it again.”

That remains to be seen, Leonard thinks to himself. He refrains from saying so aloud; there’s no need for the twins, however sleepy and oblivious they are, to hear him disparage their family members. “Mhmm.” 

Sam and Rosa accompany them back to the apartment but take their leave at the door. Like the other Rogues, they’re still somewhat wary of Barry, despite plenty of evidence that he’s grown fond of them. The twins sleep through their goodbyes. They both purr in their sleep when Rosa kisses their cheeks. 

“Can they stay this cute always?” Rosa begs. 

Leonard thinks of their Papa, who will never not be perfectly adorable, and of the many ways the twins take after him. “They just might.”


	10. Axel and Hartley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story takes place between chapters 2 and 3 of [Precious Moments](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21941269/chapters/52365457), so Nora has superspeed but Michael doesn’t have his powers yet.

Axel only visits when Hartley can accompany them. They love kids, but they have no idea what to do with them. Hartley, by contrast, is great with children. He, like Leonard, has experience raising a little sister. Unlike Leonard, he hasn’t seen his sister in years, a fact that makes Leonard wish anew that he could kill the Rathaways without a conscience, internal or otherwise, to bother him. 

They arrive on a Friday when Barry and Cisco are playing with the twins. Unlike the other Rogues, Axel lacks the self-consciousness to be afraid of Barry, and Hartley knows they’re in no danger. They stand in the doorway, all smiles, when Michael scampers over to greet them. Both of them recoil in surprise when Nora gets there first, blue lightning crackling around her. 

“I have lightning!” she chirps. 

“Yes.” Hartley is the first to recover. “That you do.” 

Michael tags along behind her, his tiny face flushed with frustration. When Axel kneels down to cuddle him, he bursts out, “I don’t have lightning!” 

“Hey,” Axel coos. They tap a fingertip against his little nose. “It’s all right not to have powers. I don’t have any—I’m just clever!” 

Cisco grumbles, “Yeah, I gotta give them that.” Axel preens at the grudging praise. Reluctantly, Michael relaxes upon seeing Axel smile. 

“It’s okay for you,” he murmurs. “You don’t have Nora.” 

Hartley snorts. Nora bolts over and shoves Michael hard enough to make him wail. Barry is up in a flash, catching Nora around the waist and scolding, “We _never_ use our powers to push people. That hurts them. Look, you really hurt Michael.” 

Axel stands back, unsure what to do with a crying child. Leonard is going to intervene, but Hartley gets there first. “Oh, shh, here you go. Come here, let me see your little belly.” 

Michael sobs, but obediently, he lifts his shirt. Bruises are already blooming where Nora pushed him. An instinctive, icy jolt of rage sends Leonard bolting to his feet, although he knows it was an accident. He has to remind himself that Nora, unlike Barry, has no idea the extent of her powers or the damage she can do if she’s reckless. 

“Oh.” Hartley tucks Michael’s shirt back over his round little belly. “Come on, let’s get some ice on those bruises. Like your Abba would say, huh? There we go, don’t—” There’s a moment where he clearly cuts himself off. When he speaks again, it’s in a low, soothing voice. “It’s okay to cry.”

For some reason, this soothes Michael enough that he only sniffles when Hartley presses an ice pack to his chest. 

“You know, your Papa shoved me like that the first time we met,” Hartley says with an impish grin. 

“Oooh!” Axel climbs up on the table and perches in the oddest position. Leonard wonders fleetingly why he even owns chairs when their entire extended family (himself included) are too gay to sit in chairs. “Tell, tell!” 

“Well, I was making a show of blasting the Rathaway Industries building,” Hartley explains. “And up runs your Papa in his little scarlet suit…” Hartley glances playfully at Barry. Leonard glowers at him until he looks away. He can concede that Barry makes a pretty picture in his suit (and the rest of the time), and Hartley is bound to have looked, but he could make it less obvious. “And for a second, I thought he was about to punch me and hurt me very badly. But no, he just shoved my chest like Nora did to you.” Hartley plants his hands on his own chest and mimics pushing. “And I fell just like you did. I bruised, too, not that your Papa ever knew—he’d have been guilty if he did.” 

Hesitantly, Michael holds out the ice pack. Hartley presses it gently back against his tiny chest. 

“It’s okay, baby, I don’t need it any more. I’m all better now. You’ll heal too.” 

Axel nods. “You’re tough like me.”

Leonard glances back at Barry and Nora, who’ve retreated to the sofa. Nora is kneeling on Barry’s lap, her tiny head hanging. As Leonard watches, she gets to her feet and wanders over to Michael. “Sorry I pushed you,” she mumbles. “I didn’t know it would hurt you so much.” 

Michael burrows instantly into her arms. “You have to be nice to me,” he says. “I don’t have lightning yet.”

Over the twins’ heads, Hartley catches Leonard’s eye, raises his eyebrows in a silent question, and brings his hand up beside his face. 'Will he?' Leonard can only shrug. 

“Maybe,” Cisco pipes up from the sofa. When everyone turns to look at him, he shrugs. “What? I’ve been around Hartley long enough to know ‘going to.’”

“I was trying to be discreet,” Hartley says loftily, “but thanks for that.” 

Axel taps Hartley’s shoulder, points at the twins, and drags two fingers across their chin. 'They’re so cute! Like you!'

Hartley flicks out his fingers in a half-hearted 'I hate you.' Unfortunately, this is the sign Nora sees. Before she asks, she flicks her fingers at Michael. “What does this mean, Uncle Hartley?”

“Hate,” he says. “If you direct it at someone, that’s ‘I hate you.’”

“Oh.” Notably, she doesn’t take back the ‘I hate you’ she directed at Michael. Instead, she asks, “What’s ‘love’?”

“Oooh, ooh, I know that one!” Axel bounces. They clasp their arms over their chest. “And then ‘I love you’ is like this.” They point at their own chest, cross their arms, and then point at the twins. 

In unison, the twins mimic them. Michael taps his finger against Nora’s chest in a none-too-subtle reproach for the push. She taps him back and apologizes heartily when she pokes his bruise. 

“You know the chaos is only just beginning,” Cisco intones. 

Leonard doesn’t know what he’s seen, and frankly, he doesn’t want to. “I know,” he agrees.


	11. Mick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place after the end of [Precious Moments](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21941269/chapters/52365457), so Michael has his temporal powers and has gotten a bit better at using them.

To Leonard’s amusement, Mick is most at ease with the twins when they’re very small. That doesn’t make him any less fond of them as they age. Leonard long ago lost track of the number of times he’s walked in to find both twins in Mick’s arms, their tiny arms wound around his thick neck. Nora takes to rubbing his head because she likes the feeling of his stubble against her palm.

“Uncle Mick, tell a story,” she demands on one such day. 

Mick grins at her, his face softening in a way it only ever does around children. “Okay. Let’s see, how about if I tell you the story of a little bitty frost elf who got himself caught?” 

Leonard makes a show of rolling his eyes. Mick is a phenomenal storyteller with a host of characters at his disposal; there’s no need for him to draw from unfortunate real-life events.

Nora squirms so much that blue sparks fly from her skin. “Tell, tell!” 

Leonard decides the only option, given Mick’s apparent delight at the prospect and the twins’ insistence on hearing the story, is to retreat. He hurries into the kitchen and busies himself finding something to make for supper. 

Mick’s story is well-received, he deduces from the twins’ frequent gasps. Although he doesn’t hear much of the story itself, he hears Nora’s shouted “And they _kissed!”_ loud and clear. 

(No. If Mick is telling them an edited version of how they met, no, they did not kiss. The only time they ever kissed was when Mick pretended to be a conjugal visitor, and that was only for lack of other options. Leonard didn’t even enjoy it—much.) 

“No, they didn’t,” he calls. 

“Stop micromanaging my story, Snart,” Mick hollers back. Apparently for Leonard’s benefit, he raises his voice when he tells the twins, “Yep, they did. The little frost elf was grateful, and the heat sprite liked kisses.”

“Wouldn’t the frost elf have melted, though?” Michael asks. 

“Nope.” Leonard can hear Mick’s shrug in the tone of his voice. “The heat sprite doesn’t burn things all the time.”

Leonard makes a soft sound, equal parts fondness and derision, and samples the macaroni. He’s so glad he has time to make it properly, with real melted cheese and a little heat to it. There’s only so much boxed macaroni a man can eat before he loses the will to live. 

“Do you wanna hear the one about the little faery who decided to fuck up the frost elf’s life?”

“Mick!” Leonard hollers. “Language!” 

Two tiny voices chirp, “Fuck!” Leonard winces. He’s going to have to answer to Barry about that, and oh, he’s not looking forward to that conversation. 

“Sorry,” Mick says, sounding utterly unrepentant. 

From upstairs, there’s a clatter. This of itself isn’t an uncommon occurrence—Barry has dubbed their upstairs neighbors ‘the dinosaurs’ for the amount of clomping that happens—but in this case, it sends little tremors through the walls. Nothing in the kitchen falls, thankfully. Something in the other room must, because Mick gasps in surprise, “What the fuck?”

_“Language!”_ Leonard snarls a second time. Then, as payback, he pitches his voice high and sweet and calls, “Mick?”

As he expected, Mick replies first, with no small amount of heat. “What the hell is that tone, Snart—”

Michael, oblivious, chirps, “Yeah Abba?”

“What fell?” Leonard can only assume Michael used his powers to keep something from falling. He’s not terribly worried—most things in the living room are soft—but if a photograph fell off the walls, that could be dangerous. 

“The picture of Papa’s family,” Michael says at the same time Mick growls, “…Snart, you and I are gonna have _words…”_

“I’m sure we will,” Leonard replies, still in that vaguely singsong voice. He suspects, somewhere deep down, Mick is pleased to have a tiny namesake. Whether he’ll admit that, to himself or anyone else, is doubtful.

Michael squeaks in delight. “I’m Mick like you, Uncle! I forgot until now!” 

“Why exactly are you Mick?” he rumbles. 

“Like ‘in the Mick of time.’” Nora sounds proud of herself for remembering Leonard’s admittedly terrible pun. “I’m Little Blue.” 

This appeases Mick temporarily. The next time he wanders into the kitchen, however, is to mutter, _“Words,_ Snart.” 

“Yes, Mick,” Leonard says absently. He probably deserves the immediate punch to his shoulder.


End file.
